Just wind, just wind.
translucent stratus-spotted sky
reflected in the wrong way white caps
of the mighty Columbia.
Just wind, just wind,
clean scentless rushing in
through the pores, flushing out
the debris of fires, Covid and elections.
Just wind, mighty tropical storm force wind
with no rain, no blowing dirt, just sky
blowing through the indian paintbrush
who dance like octopus arms in play.
Just wind, powerful unthreatening wind
knocking me to the ground
tumbling over me like boulders landsliding
breaking the bones of habituated thoughts.
Just wind, relentless wind
beach grass laughing in terror
like children on a rollercoaster
“Again, again again!”
Just wind, my wind, I want to own it
to name it for me, to be it;
unaided, unabetted, unapologetic
known, remembered, and forgotten in the same instant.
Just wind, sky chariot carrying me
Lifting me out of absorbed selfness
shattering shackles of the three times
unforming, unregressing, uncreating, unending.